


Legacy Returning

by Headfulloffantasies



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Jedi, Mand'alor, Mandalorian Politics, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Tatooine, The Darksaber, luke's jedi academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Headfulloffantasies/pseuds/Headfulloffantasies
Summary: Din Djarin is not fit to be the Mand'alor. He runs from the responsibility and more specifically from Bo-Katan.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 120
Collections: Fics_to_make_me_smile





	Legacy Returning

Din received a hail while he was flying between planets on the Outer Rim. He opened the hail without thinking, expecting Karga or Cara with a new bounty. 

Bo Katan’s face flickered through the hologram. Din dove for the disengage button. 

“Din Djarin.”

Too late. 

Din slumped in his seat. He had come to hate that stupid headband so much. “I’m not fighting you for the Darksaber,” he cut right to the chase. 

Bo Katan pressed her lips together in a frown. “If you will not face me in combat then you must return to Mandalore and begin reparations.”

Din had never stepped foot on Mandalore. It was hard to return to a place you’d never been.

“No thank you,” he said. He reached out to end the call.

“Consider your fellow vod,” Bo Katan said.

Vod. Brothers. Din had no brothers. His covert had been destroyed. He had broken his Creed. He had no one but the foundling he’d given away.

“Mandalore needs its leader,” Bo Katan pleaded.

“That’s not me,” Din said. “If you want the Darksaber, I’m throwing it in the nearest supernova.”

He hung up.

Din arrived on Tatooine at Peli’s shop. She came out of her office wiping her hands on a rag. “Where’s the little womp rat?” She asked in place of a greeting.

Din swallowed hard. “He’s with his kind,” he said.

Peli’s face fell. “Well, next time you have him, bring him this way. I like the little guy.”

Din smiled under his helmet. 

“I need some help,” he admitted. 

Peli came over and banged a fist on the side of his new ship. “Doesn’t look too bad. Better than your old rust heap.”

“Not with the ship,” Din said. “I need someplace to hide.”

Peli turned on him with a finger pointed in his face. “I know you’re a good person under that bucket, Mando, but if you bring trouble to Mos Eisley I won’t forgive you.”

“Noted,” Din nodded. 

Peli dropped the offending finger. “So, what kind of trouble are you in now?”

Din sighed loud enough that it crackled through his helmet. “I accidentally became ruler of Mandalore.”

Peli blinked. She burst out laughing. “You? You can barely take care of the kid!”

Din bristled at that. He’d done excellent with Grogu. He’d found the Jedi for him, hadn’t he?

“Do you know of anywhere I can lay low?” He asked.

Peli shrugged. “People come to Tatooine to disappear all the time. You might want to ask the new crime lord at the Hutt Palace if you’re looking for work.”

Din startled. “There’s a new crime lord?”

Peli waved her hands. “Regimes fall every day. Do I look like a newswave?”

Din thanked her and decided he’d make his way to the Hutt Palace. Work was good. It would keep him occupied until he could figure out his next move.

At the Palace a pretty girl led Din down the stone steps to the throne room. Din’s footsteps echoed in the quiet halls. 

They rounded the corner. A throne sat on a raised platform. Din let out a soft curse. “Boba Fett?”

The green helmeted Mandalorian leaped off his throne. “Mando! I thought you’d been killed by that kriffing Mandalorian princess.”

“Not yet,” Din extended his hand. They clasped vambraces. Fennec appeared from behind the throne, carrying a bottle of blue spotchka. 

“Nice to see you again,” she smirked. 

“What can I do for you, my friend?” Boba asked.

“A job, if you have any,” Din answered. “A hiding place, if not.”

Boba exchanged a glance with Fennec. “You’re running from Bo Katan?”

Din sighed. The sound came from the depths of his very core. “She’s decided if she can’t beat me, she’ll join me.”

“Which means what?” Boba asked.

“She’s trying to put me on the throne of Mandalore,” Din explained.

There was a beat of silence. Boba Fett burst into laughter. The sound bounced off the stone walls. Fennec tried her best, but her smile broke into giggles. Fett bent over and braced himself on his knees while he caught his breath.

“That girl has no taste,” Boba Fett said.

Din wasn’t sure if he should be offended. 

Boba sent Din on a task to collect a wayward dealer who’d skimmed some money off the top of Boba’s operation. 

“She’s way out in the Dune Sea,” Boba said. “That should be far enough away from Bo Katan.”

Din borrowed Peli’s speeder and set out. As he rode into the sweltering heat of the desert Din reflected on his friends’ reactions to his supposed rulership. No one thought he could do it. Kriff, even Din didn’t think he should be the Mand’alor, but some support would be nice. He definitely could not accept the throne, though. He was dar’manda; he’d lost his Way. He couldn’t lead Mandalore. Especially when he’d come to understand that most Mandalorians did not in fact follow the Way. He should just accept Bo Katan’s challenge and let her have the stupid Darksaber. Kriff, what a stupid system to have a laser sword determine the right to rule. What if it got stolen?

Din arrived at the coordinates Boba Fett had given him. Amid the towering rocks jutting out of the sand Din found a cave. It seemed like the place a normal species would take cover from the suns. 

Din stepped into the shade. His visor adjusted to the dimness. A blanket, a dead firepit and a mess of used ration wrappers strewed on the ground. And- was that? Yep. That was a bomb. 

Din came to with his ears ringing. He blinked through his visor. Twin suns pierced his vison. He took a breath.

Dank Farrik, that hurt. He ground his teeth against the wave of pain. When it faded enough to manage, Din took stock. It didn’t feel like any shrapnel had pierced his skin. At most, his head hurt. And his ribs under the chest plate.

Gingerly, Din sat up. Smoke billowed out of the cave. The blast had obviously thrown him backwards into the sand. It would take days to clean all the grit from his armour. 

A shadow fell over him. Din looked up, a hand on his blaster. 

“Dank Farrik,” he groaned. Blue Mandalorian armour filled his vision. 

Bo Katan lifted her helmet. Behind her, Kaska Reeves held the collar of Din’s bounty.

Din wobbled to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

Bo Katan had the audacity to look shocked. “I’m here to speak to you. You are the Mand’alor.”

“No.” Din unclipped the Darksaber from his belt. Bo Katana stiffened. Din drew back his arm and pitched the Darksaber as far as he could. He nearly toppled over. The Darksaber winked in the light of the twin suns and vanished into the desert. 

Bo Katan made a sound like a choked loth cat. Din did not care. He stomped over to Kaska Reeves and snatched his bounty from her. 

“Wait,” she said. “She has to stand trial for trying to assassinate the Mand’alor.”

“No,” Din repeated. He tossed his bounty over his speeder and took off. Bo Katan yelled after him. Probably something about disrespecting his cultural heritage. Din still didn’t care.

Boba Fett took one look at Din at decided he needed a drink. Din agreed, but he’d prefer to drink alone. Besides, any planet with Bo Katan on it was not a planet he could stay on. 

Din stayed one step ahead of Bo Katan for longer than he actually expected. Say you want about the princess, but she was competent and crafty. She managed to lure him to a backwater swamp with a fake bounty puck. 

“I don’t want it,” Din said. Bo Katan held out the Darksaber to him imploringly. She must have spent hours cleaning the sand from its mechanisms.

Din sighed. “Do you want to arm wrestle for it? Would that work?”

Bo Katan’s eyebrows creased. “The Darksaber must be won in combat.”

Din sagged. He was so very tired of people telling him things he didn’t understand. 

“I don’t know anything about it,” Din explained. “I don’t know how it works.”

He meant it as an excuse to pass the light sword along to her, but Bo Katan took it as an invitation to recite the Darksaber’s history.

It was… a lot. 

Din latched onto one very important detail. “So, it hasn’t always been a symbol of the Mand’alor.”

Bo Katan faltered. “Well, no, but-.”

“And it was stolen from the Jedi,” Din said.

“Yes. But it was Mandalorian first,” Bo Katan emphasised. “The Jedi had no right-.”

“So, it actually belongs to the Jedi,” Din finished his train of thought.

He swiped the Darksaber from Bo Katan’s lax grip. He whipped around and ran up the ramp of his ship. 

Bo Katan yelled after him, “Where are you going?”

“I’m giving it back to the Jedi,” Din shouted back. Glowing satisfaction filled his chest at the strangled noise Bo Katan made. 

The best part was that he had an actual excuse to go see Grogu. Usually, he showed up to the Jedi academy with a half baked defense about protecting the children or something. Luke humored him, for which Din was eternally grateful. It wouldn’t do to have to kneecap his son’s teacher. 

Din knew Luke was dramatic. The man wore a cape. Din did not wear a cape; it was a cloak and it was different. Capes were for dramatic entrances. This time though, Din thought Luke had taken the cake. Upon being presented with the Darksaber, Luke had vaulted into a tree and refused to come down.

“It belongs to the Jedi!” Din shouted up at Luke. He could just see his pale blond hair through the thick foliage.

“I want nothing to do with that thing!” Luke shot back.

Fine. Din could play dirty then. “Isn’t your sister Force sensitive? Does she need a laser sword?”

“Do not give the Death Saber to my sister!” Luke hissed.

Din did not move from his position of holding the Darksaber up towards Luke. He realised he looked much like Bo Katan had when she offered Din the sword. Kriff, why was she only person in the galaxy who wanted it but wouldn’t take it?

“Do any of your other students need a weapon?” Din suggested. He perked up. “What about Grogu? How long until he gets a sword? I can hold onto it for him until he’s ready.”

Luke sobbed. 

Rude. Din thought it was a great idea. “It’ll be like a family heirloom.”

“I will murder you in your sleep,” Luke mumbled in the tree. “I will smother you with your pillow.” 

Good luck with that. Din wore the helmet to sleep while he visited the academy. He’d had a close call with curious children the first time he’d come to see Grogu. Force users had no regard for locks that couldn’t stop them.

Anyways, Luke could not stay in that tree forever. Luke seemed to realise this too. He finally dropped back to ground level with surprising grace. He had a leaf stuck in his hair. It made him look much younger.

“That thing,” Luke jabbed a finger at the Darksaber. “Has been used to destroy the Jedi. It has no place here.”

Din looked down at the blade. “I don’t understand,” he admitted. “It’s just a thing. An object. But everyone acts like it has a will and a destiny. It’s a tool. Tools don’t care what you use them for; they don’t know the difference between good and evil.”

Din had Luke’s full attention. It was a bit daunting. Din swallowed. “Instead of giving more power to the stories of evil deeds, why don’t you use it for good? Reclaim its legacy.”

Luke squinted at him. “You’re a very clever man, Din Djarin. And a very wily one.”

At least someone thought so.

“Does that mean you’ll take it?” Din extended the Darksaber again. 

Luke hesitated. “I think,” Luke said slowly. “That you should be the one to reclaim the Darksaber’s legacy. The Force is working very strongly around you, Din Djarin.”

Din sagged. “I don’t want to be the Mand’alor.”

“Then don’t,” Luke said.

Din’s gaze snapped up to the Jedi. 

Luke shrugged. “Part of the Darksaber’s dark legacy is the bloody war for the throne of Mandalore. If you hold the Darksaber but refuse to claim Mandalore then the Mandalorians will have to come up another system to choose their leader.”

Din narrowed his eyes. Luke had a devious mind. It might just work. 

“You want me to spend the rest of my life defending the Darksaber from would be assassins and someday die a natural death without ever being defeated?”

Luke shrugged. “Something like that.” He grinned. “You’re doing great so far.”

Din resolutely did not mention he’d been blown up earlier that month. 

Din clipped the Darksaber to his belt. “Fine. But if anybody calls me a Jedi, I’m bringing the sword right back here and burying it forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have feelings about how The Mandalorian has made reconciliation one of its main themes. I’m hoping the show can redeem the history of the Darksaber and give us a Mandalore not ruled by bloodshed.


End file.
